


Message

by Purseplayer



Series: Klaine Advent 2013 [12]
Category: Glee
Genre: Christmas, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-24
Updated: 2013-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-05 20:47:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1098429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Purseplayer/pseuds/Purseplayer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the message that counts.  Fill for Klaine Advent Prompt 13: Message.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Message

_December 1998_

Even at five years old, Kurt was a perfectionist.  The glitter, the lines, the color, the writing—they all had to be just right.

Only he _couldn’t_ get it right.  His hand trembled, making each letter wobbly and uneven.  His Christmas tree remained stubbornly bent to one side.  The yellow star didn’t show up well against the red paper, and the glitter got _everywhere_ , under his fingernails and on his clothes and even in his hair, but only in ugly splotches on the card itself.

Finally, he sent his supplies falling to the floor in a frustrated sweep of his arm.

“Silly boy,” Mama said.  “Haven’t I told you it’s the message that counts?”  She picked his card off the floor gingerly, brushing away some loose glitter and straightening out the edges.  “And the message of this one is _beautiful_.  Just like you are, Kurt.”

Mama kissed his hair.  Suddenly his work didn’t seem so terrible after all.

*******

_December 2012_

It was the week before Christmas, and Kurt wasn’t going home, and Kurt wasn’t sure what to do with himself all alone, truth be told.  He wanted to see his family, see his friends.

He wanted to see Blaine.

Resigned, he pulled out his craft supplies.  Mama’s voice echoed in his head.  _“It’s the message that counts.”_   This year it felt like it was the being together that really counted, but he couldn’t have that and NYADA too, so this would have to do.

Expertly crafting card after card, Kurt made sure to embed his love in every one, until there was only one card left to make.

The words wouldn’t come, try as he might, but the tears did.  Kurt remembered the tantrum he’d thrown so long ago, was tempted to give in and try it again.  Mama wasn’t here to set him straight this time.  No one was.

Instead he shut his eyes, let the feeling wash over him and squeezed the colored pencil he held too-tight.

And he started to draw.

*******

_December 2013_

One of the many things Kurt loved about Blaine was that he made homemade Christmas cards, too.  Of course he did.  The man made scrapbooks and gum-wrapper rings and _puppets_ , for crying out loud.

The best part was the way he blushed every year when he handed Kurt his, as if his entire world depended on Kurt’s reaction.  And again, he was Blaine so… maybe it did.

This year’s card took the shape of a teddy bear, complete with a three-dimensional snout and moveable limbs and a red-ribbon bow tie.  Inside was written, predictably, _Have a Bear-y Merry Christmas.  I love you bear-y much!  You make me feel fuzzy inside XOXO, Blaine._

Kurt rolled his eyes, feeling his face stretch so much it hurt with the breadth of his grin.  He couldn’t help it.  He would never admit it, but Blaine made him feel fuzzy inside, too.  Every day he gave Kurt his love.

“Kurt?”  Blaine said, staring down at the cards he held in his hand.  “Why do I have two?”

Kurt’s smile faltered.  “It’s… one’s from last year.  I made it but then I just couldn’t send it and then you showed up and I just never… yeah.  It’s not even a real card.  It’s just… something I drew.”

Blaine shot him a questioning look, and Kurt gestured to let him know which card was which.  Blaine set this year’s card carefully aside, sliding his finger in one quick motion to open the one from last Christmas.  Studying the envelope’s contents, Blaine gasped, one hand flying up to cover his mouth.

It was a large snow globe—Kurt’s practiced designer’s hand had even captured the magic of the real thing.  Snow fell softly on a Kurt and Blaine who were curled up snugly together before a fireplace hung with stockings bearing their names, Kurt’s head on Blaine’s shoulder. 

Outside the globe was another Kurt, the look on his face reminiscent of a child who was mourning the idea of Santa Claus.  His hands and nose pressed up against the glass of the globe, eyes fixed on the image inside.

Silently, Blaine set the card on top of the other one and opened his arms.  Kurt sank against him gratefully, burrowing into his smaller body like he wanted Blaine to swallow him whole.  Blaine’s arms, the steady rise and fall of his chest, his lips landing softly just at Kurt’s hairline soaked up the lingering bad feelings, the bad taste and the unanswered plea of the season before.

Blaine didn’t speak, didn’t use words to try to reassure him.  It didn’t matter.

It was the message that counted, and Kurt heard it loud and clear.


End file.
